


the flowers we've grown together

by rachelwrites



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:28:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25602106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rachelwrites/pseuds/rachelwrites
Summary: bato is a hopeless romantic who runs a flower shop and hakoda is a hot dad who needs flowers a lot more than the average person. kind of sounds like fate, doesn't it?written for bakoda fleet week
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Bato/Hakoda (Avatar), Minor or Background Relationship(s), Sokka/Suki (Avatar)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 185
Collections: Bakoda Fleet Week 2020





	the flowers we've grown together

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this for bakoda fleet week and did not finish it on time for it to be posted with the prompt whoops but this is technically for day one??? i suppose??? i don't think i'm posting another one though so please enjoy this

It’s really all Bato’s fault, if he thinks about it.

If Bato hadn’t decided he liked flowers so much at a young age, he wouldn’t have become a florist, and if he hadn’t have become a florist he never would have opened Bato’s Bouquets and if he hadn’t opened his shop, well, he probably wouldn’t be seeing as many gorgeous and entirely unavailable men as he does on a day to day basis.

Because what is Bato, if not a hopeless romantic? And guys who care about their significant others enough to buy flowers (and not shitty drugstore flowers, _Bato’s_ flowers, which are far from cheap) are hot. So he’s been cursed to think every man who walks through his door is attractive, when nine times out of ten they’re already attached.

That’s especially true of the gorgeous man who comes in with his teenage son on Friday night as Bato’s counting what he’s made so far that day.

The man is tall, perfectly tanned (just about the same tone as Bato), and absolutely ripped. He’s wearing a white tank top with a blue flannel over it, and black jeans. His hair and beard are ruggedly shaggy, with some of his hair tied into a topknot. He’s steering a young boy in a suit, pushing him forward by the shoulders. Given how similar the two look, the younger one must be the drop-dead gorgeous one’s son.

When the pair stops at the desk, Bato’s brain finally moves his mouth into action. “Hi,” he says, “what can I get for you today?”

The man smiles down at the boy and then looks back up at Bato. “Sokka here has his homecoming dance tonight, and we’re getting his date a corsage. You got any of those?”

Bato nods. “Of course. Do you know what color they’ll be wearing?” The boy, Sokka, pales, and looks at his father expectantly. The man shrugs at Bato in return, who laughs. “No worries,” he continues, “we’ll go with a white rose. Matches with everything.” He turns his back to the two and pulls a fresh white rose out of the refrigerated draw, bringing it back around to the counter. He slides it over to Sokka, who holds onto it tightly, seemingly fearful.

Bato rings up the purchase and says “That’ll be fifteen dollars…” he looks up, realizing he doesn’t know the father’s name.

“Hakoda,” the man supplies, with a smile. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a twenty. “Do you have change,” Hakoda pauses for a moment to look at Bato’s nametag, “Bato? Like _Bato’s Bouquets_ Bato?”

Bato takes the bill and grins. “One and the same,” he says, pulling five singles out of the register and ripping off the receipt. “Your change,” Bato continues, handing the stack of bills and paper.

“Thank you, Bato,” says Hakoda, “this is a really great shop you have here—”

“Dad!” Sokka yells, having moved over to the door. “I can’t be late to pick up Suki!”

Hakoda sighs. “Kids,” he says, with a shrug, “He’s trying to be a good date, which I think I legally have to encourage. Thank you Bato. Nice to meet you.”

“You too, Hakoda!” Bato says as the man turns around. “Come back any time!” Hakoda winks at him over his shoulder as he opens the door for Sokka. The bell rings and then the two of them are gone.

Bato leans over the counter and buries his face in his hands. He _cannot_ do this again. Getting a mild crush on a customer is one thing. But one with kids? Where there’s sure to be a wife at home? Absolutely not, Bato, not today. He groans because even as he thinks it, his heart is doing a little tap dance thinking about Hakoda. The best Bato can hope for is that the guy never comes back and Bato never has to think about him again.

+

Of course, because the universe hates Bato, Hakoda comes in not even a week later. He’s dressed more formally this time in a button down, slacks, and a tie, which makes Bato’s mouth dry a little. “Hi Bato,” Hakoda says, running up to the counter, clearly stressed. “Do you have any uh, premade bouquets?”

Bato smiles, hoping to calm the man’s nerves. “In the fridge to your left.” Hakoda whips his neck around, and Bato can see the tension leave his body. He moves closer to look at the colors and Bato slips out from behind the counter to join him. “Anything in particular you’re searching for?” he asks.

Hakoda laughs. “It’s my daughter’s recital today and I was so worried I was gonna be late while someone took thirty minutes to pack a bouquet.”

“Instrument or dance?”

Hakoda looks at Bato confused for a moment, as if he hadn’t heard the question properly. “Dance,” he answers cautiously, “Katara’s a ballerina.”

Bato grins. “Wonderful,” he says, “I’m sure she’s fantastic.” He opens the fridge to look for the bouquet he’s thinking of.

“She is!” Hakoda continues from behind them. “Her ballet school is doing _The Nutcracker_ , and she was so worried she was going to be coffee, I told her _that_ was some racist bullshit and if they pulled it I’d transfer her but she’s… I forgot the name. The princess?”

Bato tries to ignore the warmth in his chest hearing how fondly Hakoda talks about his kids as he grabs the bouquet he has in mind. “The Sugar Plum Fairy?” he asks.

“Yes! That’s it!” Hakoda exclaims, happy to be reminded. “Sorry, ballet’s kind of their mom’s thing.”

_Mom’s_.

Well, it’s really just a confirmation of what Bato already knew. He straightens up, swallowing the frankly ridiculous amount of hurt he feels (he’s met this man what, twice now?) and hands Hakoda the sunset roses with the wild carrot fillers. “Here you go,” he says with a forced smile, “fit for a beautiful ballerina.”

Hakoda’s smile spreads all the way across his face. “Thank you Bato, it’s perfect.” He pauses for a moment as he pulls out his wallet. “How much?”

“Twelve dollars.”

“Less than the corsage?” Hakoda asks. Bato shrugs. Flower pricing is weird. Hakoda yanks the money out of his wallet and gives it to Bato, asking, “Do you have kids, Bato?”

Bato chokes a little at the question. He shoves the cash in his apron and answers. “No, but I’d like to someday.” It’s an honest answer, he’ll give himself that.

“They’re great,” says Hakoda. “They’re ridiculous and such little assholes sometimes but they’re the best thing that will ever happen to you.”

“Well,” Bato says, walking Hakoda towards the door, “here’s to hoping.”

+

The next time Bato sees Hakoda Is a few weeks later, and the man is wearing a Henley. A _Henley_. Bato thinks at a certain level of buff-ness Henley’s should be outlawed, and Hakoda is doing everything he can to prove Bato right. (Or wrong? Who knows?)

Hakoda strolls towards the counter, a little awkwardly. “Hi Bato,” he says with a little wave, “Can I get three white lilies?”

Bato inwardly cringes, but he’s absolutely not going to make a thing about it. Not at all. He turns his back to Hakoda to pull out the lilies and asks, “Congratulations or condolences?”

He hears Hakoda sputter from behind him. “What do you mean?”

“White lilies are for two things, weddings or funerals. So, congratulations or condolences?”

“Um, condolences. They’re for the kids’ mom, we’re visiting her grave today.”

Bato spins around in a nanosecond. “Holy shit,” he says dropping the flowers he had been clipping, “I’m so sorry. Oh my god, are you okay?”

Hakoda gives a soft smile. “Yeah, it’s been a few years now,” he says. “You have nothing to worry about. People have reacted more weirdly.”

And Bato can feel the words coming up from his gut. He tries with all his might to shove them back down, but they won’t return and before he knows it he yelps “You don’t want white lilies!”

Bato immediately slaps a hand over his mouth while Hakoda raises an eyebrow. “Okay,” the other man says, “now you’ve reacted the weirdest out of anyone. Care to explain?”

Bato uncovers his mouth. “Sorry,” he starts, “I’m just really passionate about what I do. So, like I said, white lilies are for weddings and funerals. They’re bough en masse for events, not individually for personal experiences. It’s the wrong message.”

“Okay, I think I follow,” says Hakoda, “what send the right message?”

Bato does some quick mental math. “Three lilies,” he says, “One for you, one for each of the kids?” Hakoda nods and Bato turns back around, grabbing the flowers he’d luckily clipped earlier and turns around to hand them to Hakoda. “Forget-Me-Not bunches for,” he struggles a moment to remember the names, “Sokka and Katara?”

Hakoda takes the flowers and smiles and Bato moves again towards the fridge. “You remembered their names!”

“Yeah,” says Bato, “most people run into a high-end flower shop because they forgot an anniversary gift and then they never come back. No one buys flowers at this price frequently. You’re the closest thing I have to a regular.” Bato smiles as he grabs onto the flower he’s looking for. “The Forget-Me-Nots are simple. Remembrance, obviously.” He hands the final flower to Hakoda. “And this camellia is for you. Love and devotion. Because even though it’s been a while you’ll always love her. It’s a fantastic way to say she’ll always be in your heart, even if you’re not actively mourning anymore, which is the impression the lilies give.”

Hakoda grins. “She wouldn’t want me to still be mourning,” he says, “Kya would want me to remember and love her but also to keep going with my life. I think she’ll like her flowers.”

“Glad to be of service,” Bato says, proud his knowledge was put to good use.

“How much do I owe you?” asked Hakoda, reaching for his back pocket.

“Nothing!” Bato exclaimed. “It’s on the house. As an apology for your florist being an ass?”

Hakoda looked at him cautiously. “Are you sure?” Bato nodded. “Thanks, Bato,” he continued, “I have to head out, kids in the car and all that, but I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah,” Bato says, as he waves at the retreating man, “I’ll see you soon!” As the bell jingles, Bato just hopes that it’s true.

+

Hakoda comes back into the shop just a few days later, two kids in tow. Sokka walks a few feet behind his dad, eyes glued to his phone, while Hakoda’s daughter walks him to the counter. Bato waves at the group and Hakoda smiles. “Katara,” Hakoda says, placing a hand on his daughter’s shoulder, “tell Bato what you want.”

Katara looks up at him with a big smile. “My best friend Aang is in a show and I need to get him some flowers, because he’s going to be great!”

Sokka scoffs from behind her. “You mean _my_ best friend Aang.”

“Ugh, Sokka,” Katara says, whipping around to face him. “You’re so stupid, can you just shut up once? Please?” That drags the two of them into a back and forth and Bato looks at Hakoda who gives a long suffering sigh.

Bato gives him a soft smile. “I’ve got some good flowers for you, don’t worry.” He motions Hakoda over to the fridge with the pre-made bouquets and says, “It’s really nice of you to buy flowers for another kid.”

Hakoda laughs as Bato opens the fridge. “Aang’s great,” he says, “the kids have known him since forever. He spent a couple of years kicking around the foster system before he finally got adopted last fall by this old guy, Gyatso. He’s still like a third kid to me, though.”  
  


Bato handed him a bouquet of yellow roses. “That’s really sweet of you,” he said. “Already having two kids, taking in one more? What are you, a saint?”

“Something like that,” Hakoda said with a smirk, “but not quite as innocent.” Bato chokes a little at that, making Hakoda chuckle.

“Ha ha,” grumbles Bato, “make fun of the guy who de-thorns your flowers.”

Hakoda laughs again. “Sorry to have offended you, your highness.” He passes Bato a credit card to pay for the flowers and Bato quickly returns it with a receipt. “Well we gotta head out. Unless you want to see some middle school musical theater?”

“I can’t,” said Bato, “But thanks for the invite. I gotta stick around though, see if anyone else wants to buy overpriced flowers.”

Hakoda looks at him solemnly, but with a twinkle in his eye. “Ah, of course. Why, the neighborhood would crumble if the flower shop closed early.” He smiled and turned to Sokka and Katara who had stopped arguing. “C’mon kids, time to go.”

Sokka was back to staring at his phone, but Katara was looking at Bato intensely, as if he was a mystery she was trying to solve. _Surveying_ him almost. When she realized she’d been caught her demeanor quickly shifted back to that of a smiley fourteen-year-old. “Bye Bato!” she chirped. “Nice to meet you!”

He smiled back. “Nice to meet you too Katara.” Hakoda gave him a wave as he left and Bato returned the gesture. “See you around!”

+  
  


Somehow, Bato is blessed with a Hakoda visit the very next day. Which is rough, because the more Bato sees Hakoda the more he likes him, in a very not customer-service appropriate way.

Katara is dragging Hakoda towards Bato until she stops short about a foot away, making Hakoda almost lose his balance. When he gets back up he smiles at Bato. “Hey stranger,” Bato says, “what brings you back so soon?”

“Well _this_ one,” Hakoda says, with a pointed look at Katara, “decided she wants to put flowers on the dinner table tonight. And now we’re here.”

Bato smiled and looked down at Katara. “Well then, Katara, do you know what flowers you want? You’re the boss!”

Katara grinned at that. “I’m _always_ the boss,” she said. “Um, how about something blue?” Bato nodded and looked behind him. _Blue_. When he landed on something he thought was suitable he grabbed it and held the bunch over the counter for Katara to see. “Yes!” she said. “Those are _perfect_. What are they called?”

Bato smiled as he began to wrap them. “These are hydrangeas,” he explained, “and they’re actually my favorite flower.”

“They’re my favorite flower now too,” Katara decided. Then she turned to her dad and asked, “Dad, what’s your favorite flower?”

“Roses,” Hakoda said without hesitation. “Red roses. I like a classic.” He smiled at Bato, making him blush.

Bato handed the hydrangeas to Katara now that they were properly packaged. “If you take good care of them, they should last about a week. Sound good?” Katara nods, looking at the flowers very seriously. Bato stands up all the way to meet Hakoda’s eyes. “Thanks for stopping by today. Always nice to see you guys.”

Hakoda grins back. “Ditto,” he says, “we just can’t seem to stay away!” The two of them laugh as Katara, who had apparently missed the last sentence of two, looks confused. Then she and Hakoda leave, and Bato stares at the door long after they’re gone. He wishes, not for the first time, that he could be going home with them.

+

For a week after that, Bato sees nothing of Hakoda or his family. He gets a little hopeful every time the bell chimes to signal the door opening, but it’s never them. In the end, it’s not the bell that notifies him of their presence, but the muffled yelling from outside.

At first, he’s not entirely sure what he’s hearing. He’s half asleep on the counter, and it’s quiet from ten feet away through the glass but it’s not until he hears an unmistakable. “God, you’re such an _idiot_ Sokka,” that he looks up and, well.

It appears as if he’s got the whole Scooby Gang loitering outside his shop.

Sokka and Katara, who are the only two in this group he recognizes, are arguing at each other and gesturing wildly. A bald kid, a little shorter than Katara, appears to be trying to diffuse the situation while an even shorter girl with long black bangs who’s chewing bubblegum appears to be egging them on. Two taller kids, a guy and a girl around Sokka’s age who both have their hair tied up in short ponytails, look on in amusement.

Bato stares at the group for a moment, deciding what to do, until the older girl meets his eyes. Her expression is comically surprised, and she taps Sokka’s shoulder and points at Bato. Sokka turns to look at him and Katara follows his gaze. Bato waves and the two of them sheepishly walk inside.

“Hey kids,” he says, raising an eyebrow, “what bring you two in here?”

Katara flinches a little. “Hey Bato,” she says, “I need some flowers. See, I have a huge, stupid, dumb crush on—”

“Aang!” Sokka interjects, gleefully. “The bald kid out there! That’s Aang, who my sister’s totally in love with.” Bato looks out and finds the four other kids talking animatedly. The tall boy notices his staring at Aang and alerts the younger boy, who smiles and waves.

Bato turns back to Katara, who’s glaring at Sokka. “Yes, I’m super in love with my best friend Aang,” she says, a little angrily. “And I want to get him a bouquet of flowers, so he knows. Red roses? With the little white ones in it?”

“Wild carrots,” Bato immediately says, and he brings the red roses bucket to the counter so he can clip while still talking to him. “He’s just outside. Can’t you tell him? Or won’t he know when he sees the flowers?”

“He’s really oblivious,” says Katara, “and I’m a big gestures kind of gal.” Sokka snorts at that and she shoots him another glare to shut him up. Bato hands her the wrapped bouquet, and she says, “Um, any chance you could write a note? In the pretty cursive?”

Bato nods. “What do you want it to say?”

Sokka reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his phone. He clears his throat and says, “I love you. I’ve loved you for a long time and I think, if given the chance, I’ll love you forever. Come find me when you see this, I’ll be waiting for you.”

“And then a little heart at the end,” adds Katara.

Bato complies, writing the note in calligraphy. “Do you want me to sign your name?”

Katara’s eyes go wide. “No!” she exclaims. “Um, I’ll write that for myself. My name should be from me, you know?” Bato nods, thinking that it vaguely makes sense. He rips a piece of clear tape and sticks the note to the paper surrounding the roses and Katara says “Thank you!”

Sokka passes a twenty over the counter and Bato gives him his correct change. “Hey,” he says, dropping the coins in Sokka’s hand, “you two tell your dad I say hi, okay?”

Katara’s whole face lights up and even Sokka cracks a genuine smile. “Okay,” Sokka says, “definitely. Bye Bato!” The two of them run out, and the rest of their friends welcome them back into the conversation, beginning to walk away from the shop. Bato shakes his head and hope those kids realize how lucky they are he was too tired to pry today.

+

Much later that night, Bato’s closing up shop when Hakoda bursts in. Bato thinks he might be dreaming due to the extreme exhaustion, but the bells rings as the door slams shut which jolts him awake a little bit. “Hey, Hakoda,” he starts and the other man barrels towards him, “what are you—mmph!”

Hakoda grabs on to the front of Bato’s apron and hauls him over the counter into a bruising kiss. It’s a little uncomfortable with the countertop pressing into his stomach like that, but Hakoda’s lips are a little chapped and warm and Bato can feel himself melting against the other man. When they pull apart, Bato a little breathless, Hakoda says “I’m going to take you on a date this Saturday.”

Bato nods, still a little awestruck. “Not that I’m not happy about this development,” he says, “but what brought this on?”

Hakoda’s face morphs into a confused expression. “The flowers? You sent me a bouquet of roses. There was a note telling me to come find you?”

“Oh my god,” Bato says, “I sold that to your kids earlier today. They told me Katara was using it to confess her love to Aang and I was too exhausted to think anything of it.”

Hakoda’s eyes widened. “Those…” he shakes his head. “I had a plan, you know! I was going to start dropping by here more often over the next couple of weeks, get your number, ask you out for coffee in a month. But that note… _damn_ my kids are smart.”

Bato laughs. “Hakoda,” he said, “The note used the word ‘love’ like, three separate times. I do like you a lot, but I’ve barely known you for a month.”

“Fair.” Hakoda smiles, but his expression turns serious. “But Bato, I do need you to know. I have kids, I can’t afford to do stuff like this halfway. Bringing someone into their lives just for them to disappear… I can’t do that to them. So if you’re in, and I really do hope you’re in, you have to be all in.”

Hakoda has such a hopeful look in his eyes that Bato laughs again as he slips out from behind the counter and leans against it, so he’s still across from Hakoda but without the separation of the marble. “Hakoda,” he says, bringing up a hand to the slightly taller man’s cheek, “I’ve been gone on you since just about the moment you walked in here. And I happen to really like your kids too. I’m all in.”

Hakoda’s face softens into relief. He places a hand over Bato’s and laughs. ”Great,” he says, “because that means I can do this again.” He leans in and Bato meets him halfway for a much gentler kiss that their first. Bato smiles against the other man’s lips, extremely content with the way the evening has turned out.

+

Bato’s nervous. He doesn’t care how many times Hakoda’s assured him that his kids like him, he’s _extremely_ nervous. He’s wearing a button down and slacks, which is a mite nicer than Hakoda told him to dress. He carries a bunch of hydrangeas, hoping that they’re still Katara’s favorite flower.

He rings the doorbell and thank _god_ it’s Hakoda who answers. Hakoda smiles at him and gives him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Come in,” he says, “we have a place set for you.”

Bato makes his way in, letting Hakoda guide him by the small of his back. He lays eyes on the dinner table where Katara and Sokka are already seated. Both of them do a double-take when they see him. Katara’s jaw drops and Sokka says, not quietly, “Holy shit, it worked.”

“Sokka!” Hakoda barks. “Please watch your language when we have guests!”

“Dad,” Sokka whines, “I’m sixteen. I can say what I want.”

Hakoda looks at his son. “Not while you live under my roof, you can’t. Anyway, you both know Bato, from the flower shop?” Bato gives a small wave.

“Okay, so Bato’s your mysterious boyfriend,” Katara says, nonplussed, “great, nice to have you here Bato, super excited for you and my dad. Does this mean that the note thing worked? Like it really worked?”

Hakoda starts with a “Well—” but Bato cuts him off by simply nodding his head in confirmation.

Katara starts laughing to the point she almost falls out of her seat and Sokka’s muttering “Oh my god, wait until I tell Zuko. He’s gonna _freak_.” Hakoda looks at Bato and pulls out a chair, motioning for Bato to take his seat. He does, and Hakoda pushes him in.

As Hakoda moves to his own seat, Katara is eager for more information like _who figure out what happened first?_ And _what did you say when you got there, dad?_ while Sokka is begging to be excused so he can text his friends about this new development. Bato smiles to himself, thinking that this scene is something he’d love to get used to.

**Author's Note:**

> leave a comment or kudos to show me you care! follow me on tumblr [tophbejfong](https://tophbejfong.tumblr.com/)


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